


Birdbath

by ivorytower



Category: Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:46:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorytower/pseuds/ivorytower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sanguinius has xenos goo in his wings, but Horus knows what to do. He's done this before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birdbath

Birdbath; Shower sex. Gay primarchs. Horus/Sanguinius - Horus, I have xeno goo in my wings.  
  
Many of Sanguinius' men believed that he was a warrior with the dedication of Guilliman and Dorn because he would be the first into his power armor and the last out of it.  
  
This was only partially true.  
  
He _was_ a warrior with the dedication of Guilliman and Dorn. He fought no less fiercely or proudly, and he even had a keen mind for the politics that cropped up around himself and the other Primarchs. He fought with the berserking abandon of Angron but without any of the mindlessness. His insight was valued by the Emperor's Warmaster, Horus, one of his brothers in arms.  
  
But that wasn't the only reason he spent so much time in his power armor in public.  
  
"Horus," Sanguinius called. "I have xeno goo in my wings."  
  
"Again?" the Warmaster repeated, and frowned. _His_ power armor was discarded, and he strode towards his fellow Primarch. Sanguinius stood, the feathers of his long, angelic-white wings stained with blood and ichor. "I'm not surprised. You'd stay cleaner if you fought at range with a heavy bolter."  
  
"It wouldn't be as fun that way," he replied. "Help me get out of this?"  
  
"Fine." The first step was getting to the near-invisible fastenings on the back of his power armor. With an expert touch, Horus ran his fingers along the seams, looking for the right catch which would free Sanguinius from the cage that both protected and hampered him, both bulwark and weakness. There was an audible hiss as it released. He unfolded the back from around the Blood Angel Primarch's wings carefully. The armor was thinnest near the wings, and it was something of a challenge to remove it without bending or breaking a feather. The jump suit underneath left the area around the wings bare. The legs came next, and those were easier. There were a dozen tiny jets around the articulation points, which allowed Sanguinius to take flight.  
  
 _It only_ looks _like his wings work while weighed down with so much armor,_ Horus reflected. _For effect._ Horus drew a single finger down Sanguinius' spine as he unclipped the sensors that allowed him to control the jets.  
  
"Thanks, but now I need to clean these." Sanguinius' shoulders hunched a little. "It's so _itchy_ , they're all out of place."  
  
"That's why I'm here," Horus grumbled. "We need to hurry, I need to meet with my Mournival, Ferrus Manus and Fulgrim."  
  
Sanguinius paused halfway towards the bathroom. "I can have servants take care of me if you'd prefer." There was silence for only a moment.  
  
"I'm coming."  
  
~ * ~  
  
Horus' apartments had two bathrooms. One was perfectly normal, if not sized for Astartes rather than normal humans. Then there was a second one. This bathroom had a series of lightly misting shower heads along two walls, and a shallow bathtub to sit in, complete with a low bench. There were bottles of shampoo and oils carefully tucked away under one of the other benches along with a small bucket.  
  
Sanguinius stripped off the rest of his clothing, and put them just outside the bathroom. Horus undressed as well, and did the same, standing back a moment to turn on the misters. Almost immediately, the air became damp. The Blood Angel Primarch made a face, and beckoned to Horus. Taking up a cloth, he began at Sanguinius' humeral feathers, carefully wiping away the ichor.  
  
"Was it bad?" Horus asked quietly as he worked. This close, the water carried warmth between them. Sanguinius shrugged.  
  
"It wasn't good, I wouldn't have been there if it was," he replied, and leaned into his touch a little. Damp blond hair spilled over his shoulders, and he smiled. "It's certainly better now."  
  
"I read your preliminary report," Horus said, working downwards along the alar part of his left wing. "I sent you there."  
  
"Obviously," Sanguinius said. He extended his arm, leaning against the wall. "It was worth it."  
  
"I know that, it's the Emperor's will," Horus said, moving to clean the right wing.  
  
"And I know you know, but sometimes you need to hear it," Sanguinius replied, and looked over his shoulder. He offered him a smile. "Warmaster Horus of the Luna Wolves. Now my hair."  
  
"This you could do on your own, you're lazy," Horus pointed out, but reached for a bottle. He poured liquid into his palms, and soaped his hands briefly before digging them into Sanguinius' scalp. The moan he elicited from Sanguinius' lips made him smile. He scrubbed and stroked, his fingertips moving in a pattern. Decades of martial training prevented the Blood Angel from buckling at the knees. There was a second noise when Horus pulled away. He picked up the bucket, and filled it briefly with water. Using his arm to shelter Sanguinius' wings, he dumped the water over Sanguinius' head, rinsing away the soap. This was done with great care and the whole process was repeated again with conditioner.  
  
"Don't... don't soak my wings," Sanguinius managed. Horus brushed his lips along the other Primarch's shoulder.  
  
"Of course not, Angel," Horus said, his voice softly husky. He ran a hand over Sanguinius' stomach, and down one of his legs. A moment later, he took Sanguinius' length in his hand, stroking a thumb along it. "When we're late, I'm claiming it's your fault."  
  
"Oh, yes, _blame_ me," Sanguinius panted. "Get the oil?"  
  
Horus pulled away from him. Once, long ago, they'd tried using oil on Sanguinius' wings, thinking it would help. The resulting mess had meant delaying one of their forward campaigns by two days -- luckily, too, it gave them a harder-hitting advantage -- but they'd never thrown away the oil. It was so useful for other things. Horus spread the oil on his fingers while Sanguinius watched, blue eyes glittering.  
  
"Just wait until I get my hands on a fruit basket," Sanguinius warned as he waited impatiently.  
  
"I can already imagine it," Horus said, and moved behind Sanguinius again. With his clean hand, he drew a line between Sanguinius' shoulderblades, along his spine and down his back. He felt the other Primarch shiver under his touch, and stroked over Sanguinius' entrance with his oiled fingers. The response was immediate, he pushed against them, and Horus had to hold him, making him wait while he was thoroughly stretched.  
  
"Damn your eyes, Horus, hurry--" Sanguinius cried softly before Horus pressed into him. Sanguinius braced himself hard against the bathroom wall as Horus thrust slowly while stroking him with the same rhythm. As Horus moved, water dripped off of his back. Horus made a soft noise in between Sanguinius' much louder moans and cries.  
  
Horus began to stroke faster, and he shifted his angle, moving to stand on his toes. His balance was somewhat precarious as he thrust again and again. Sanguinius tensed underneath him, his hips moving fast against Horus' hand. Sanguinius' wings began to fluff and tremble, rocking against him hard. "By the Emperor's-- ah! Horus!"  
  
Horus wrapped an arm tightly around Sanguinius' waist, kissing between his shoulder blades, muffling his own cry as his muscles tensed and released. He stroked Sanguinius more slowly, and just held him as water collected on their shoulders, and Sanguinius' wings. He nuzzled at the back of Sanguinius' neck, kissing it softly.  
  
"You know," Sanguinius said after a moment. "Now you have to help me preen."  
  
Horus chuckled, and wiped a little of the water away. "We'll definitely be late."  
  
~ * ~  
  
"Where's the Warmaster?" Ferrus Manus demanded, striding back and forth. "This meeting should have ended by now."  
  
"Sanguinius just came back from Xvrix VII, he's probably busy debriefing him," Fulgrim murmured, carefully flipping to the next page of his book. Ferrus glanced down at him, frowning at both his fellow Primarch and the elaborate technical design.  
  
"That's what this meeting is for, isn't it?" Ferrus asked. "He could debrief Sanguinius in front of the rest of us."  
  
Fulgrim looked up, meeting Abaddon's eyes. "No, he couldn't."  
  
End

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be totally honest, I didn't initially believe this story was *good* enough to post on AO3 until I got contacted by someone who had been talking about it with other people. So, I'm flattered and overwhelmed and here it is!
> 
> References:  
> [Wikipedia's entry on bird wings.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Pterylae.svg)  
> [Stanford's Bathing and Dusting for Birds](http://www.stanford.edu/group/stanfordbirds/text/essays/Bathing_and_Dusting.html)  
> [About.com's entry on Bathing Birds.](http://birds.about.com/od/grooming/a/bathing.htm)  
> [Warhammer 40k's Wiki entry about Sanguinius.](http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Sanguinius)  
> [Warhammer 40k's Lexicanum entry on Sanguinius.](http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Sanguinius)


End file.
